


Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by LycanKnight



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Coming In Pants, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, in that naberius never explicitly consents, though that is somewhat glossed over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LycanKnight/pseuds/LycanKnight
Summary: Naberius Tern has a religious experience at the hands of Colum Asht.
Relationships: Colum Asht/Naberius Tern
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to take place in an AU in which Cytherea never takes Dulcinea's place in Canaan House though it is not integral to the reading experience.

In hindsight, Naberius is not at all sure how he got here, pressed up against a wall by the Eighth cavalier. One second he's questioning Colum on his dueling record and techniques in the training room, and the next a tongue is being shoved down his throat--not that Naberius minds because, frankly, it feels like his brain is melting out of his ears.

The Eighth is _very_ handsy, everywhere he touches burning like holy fire. His fingers trail a burning path over Naberius' shoulder blades, pressing glowing brands into his biceps, his lower back. The fire spreads into his veins and settles, almost suffocatingly warm into his lungs. A hand finally settles at his neck, moving into his hair; the other now gripping tightly to his hip--tight enough to bruise. Lips move down to his neck as his head is pulled sharply to the right. The hand previously on his hip moves almost reverently to his ass, grasping a handful.

The Eighth is also very bitey, sucking bruises into Naberius' neck, mouthing at his jawline, the shell of his ear. A knee moves between his thighs and Kindly Prince help him, he rocks against it, breath hissing out from between his teeth. This is it, he's going to die here, his blood is going to boil into nothing and he will burn into ash. A moan makes it out and he barely bites back another at the sound of Colum’s deep, rasping voice in his ear.

“That’s better, Third, just like that.”

Naberius Tern has never been very religious, but that voice makes him want to sink to his knees in the most devout of prayers. When the hand previously tugging at his hair leaves its place, he almost whines in disappointment until it finds its place at his thigh, squeezes once, and pulls Naberius’ leg over Colum’s hip. A short hop solves the most pressing problem and his legs are now wrapped around the other cavalier’s gorgeously firm torso.

The Eighth grinds against him once, twice, thrice and Naberius nearly comes apart at the seams, holding it together long enough to turn his head and meet Colum’s lips again. Another growl comes from his partner and it feels like he’s melting, turning to putty beneath these muscular hands. His arms are wound firmly around Colum’s neck as though it were a lifeline. He is drowning, burning, being buried and so many other things that flee his mind as Colum bites at his lip and goes on to mark up and down the other side of Naberius’ neck.

He gives up entirely on trying to hold back as Colum pulls his shirt down past his shoulder, distantly hearing a few buttons go skittering to the floor. Naberius can only let out a few stuttering gasps as the Eighth descends upon the newly revealed flesh like a man possessed. Colum’s hair is far too short to grasp, so all Naberius can do is cling to his shoulders and whimper as the other man sets about the task of pulling him apart with his teeth.

Naberius is a hair's breadth away from _begging_ Colum to just _fuck_ him, to take some measure of mercy on him when he comes--nearly blind with it. The heat gathered in his lungs scatters out to electricity, setting every nerve alight, terminating in little shocks in his fingers and toes. He lays his head against the wall behind him, sobbing with relief as Colum grinds against him through his own release, sucking a few final bruises into the meat of Naberius' shoulder.

Colum ruts up against him once more, panting against his own overstimulation, sliding his hands almost blasphemously up Naberius’ torso, whispering filthy encouragements as they both come down.

The spell is nearly broken as Colum begins to trace kisses almost adoringly back up the slope of his neck, stopping to look into Naberius’ slowly opening eyes. Colum’s eyes are blown nearly black, soft rings of brown barely visible. Colum is definitely going to say something, ruin the moment, but Naberius beats him to the punch, pulling Colum back down into an irrepressibly soft kiss.

This time, the kiss is more exploratory, less claiming. The fire in his lungs melts to something sugary and soft, settling comfortably into his veins as he reaches up to cup Colum’s face.

They stay like that for a while, kisses languid and unhurried. Colum eventually breaks away, mouth quirking up as Naberius chases after him.

“We should get back, it’s been quite a while.”

Naberius desperately wants to say something horribly attractive or at least vaguely charming. Unfortunately, the only thing that leaves his mouth is a breathy, “I’m glad I didn’t get married.”

Colum’s mouth shapes itself into a proper smile as he sets Naberius down on shaking legs, leaning into a final kiss before taking his leave.

Naberius holds his shirt closed as he begins to pick his way back to his rooms, thankfully avoiding any of the other human inhabitants of Canaan House; though it feels distinctly like the skeleton servitors are staring at him. Inevitably, he does have to play twenty questions with Coronabeth when she remarks that he looks “like he got mauled by a bear”. He manages to dodge most of her questions without giving away too much.

Eventually, he manages to make it in front of a mirror to inspect himself. Naberius does in fact look as though he’s been mauled. There’s barely an inch of skin not already bruising from the edges of his collarbone to just underneath his chin. His normally perfectly coiffed hair is mussed in a way that is clearly not purposeful. His lips are still red and kiss-swollen. In short--he looks _utterly debauched_. Naberius finds that he does not mind this.

In the months that follow, he also finds himself pressed into many a dark corner with Colum the Eighth proving himself to be quite the willing supplicant.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published work in a number of years and the very first of a rating higher than Teen, please let me know what you all think! Special thanks to KT and Darlingofdots from the People's Tomb Discord for taking the very first look at this.


End file.
